


My Scars Healed

by ziparumpazoo



Series: Cottage AU [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: 10000-30000 words, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Romance, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-06
Updated: 2009-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 09:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziparumpazoo/pseuds/ziparumpazoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abandoned off-world, living is about more than just survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Scars Healed

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to mrspollifax for holding me accountable/cheer leading me on. I probably wouldn't have tried this without her encouragement. Also thanks to the ever-fabulous a_loquita for the beta. All remaining errors and assumptions are my own.

“Jack!”

Jack broke his uphill stride and turned at the greeting. “Harlow.”

“Tell that woman of yours that I need that wheel fixed before market day.” Harlow was a good man, but Jack worried that if Carter ever heard him refer to her as 'that woman of yours', their comfortable arrangements with their landlord would come to an end.

Jack pushed his faded and taped cap back and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. It was going to be another hot one today. It had to be at least ninety already and the breeze hadn't yet picked up off the water. He hoped it would rain by the evening so they wouldn't have to spend another night sleeping out on the patio, but that was wishful thinking. The prairie winds blew counter to the coastal breezes and they seemed to have reached a stalemate.

“She say she'd have it back by market day?”

“Said she'd have it earlier if things worked out right.” The big man's shirt was already dark with patches of sweat.

“Then she'll have it back by market day. She's good on her word.”

Harlow nodded. “Figured she would. But Anka wanted me to ask.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “You know how wives can be. Don't trust a fellow to get the job done on his own.”

Jack figured it was more of a case of Anka not liking Carter than not trusting her husband, but kept his mouth shut. He liked Harlow. He liked the cottage that he and Carter rented from him on the upper slopes of Harlow's property. What went on between the man and his wife was really none of his business.

“Speaking of...” Jack turned back uphill. “If I don't get back with that brush I borrowed, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

The excuse seemed to be good enough for Harlow because he waved Jack off with a knowing grunt. “Tell her-”

“Got it covered.” Jack waved the borrowed paintbrush and headed off towards the cottage.

The trees that bordered the small yard barely cast a shadow by the time Jack made it back from running his errands. Tall and thin, he might have called them Cyprus on Earth, but here he just called them trees. And piss-poor shade trees, at that.

The door to the cottage was propped open and Jack was greeted with a sight that made him smile despite the dryness in his mouth. Or maybe that was the cause of it. If anybody had told him that the chief benefit of retiring off-world would have been Sam Carter barefoot in his kitchen, with her hair pulled back and a look of fierce concentration on her tanned face, he’d have signed on the dotted line before Hammond could let go of the clipboard.

If she heard him drop his bucketful of items on the counter behind her, she gave no indication. She frowned into the depths of the large canning pot on top of the kitchen woodstove and gave the contents a stir.

Jack slipped behind her and slid his hands over her hips. He leaned over her shoulder and inhaled deeply, expecting that inimitable scent of sunshine and earth and hard work that he always associated with her when she was tied up with one of her projects.

“Carter. That’s disgusting.” He stepped back and gasped for fresh air.

She finally looked up at him, slightly confused at his reaction. “That’s because it’s glue.”

Jack just stared back.

“For Harlow’s cart wheel? The one I asked you to pick up more nails for?”

Right. That one.

“Thank god. For a moment I thought you were cooking lunch.” Jack glanced at the crude calendar tacked behind the door. Even after three years and who knew how many planets, there was still something comforting about knowing what day of the week it was back home. Not that he really considered Earth home anymore. Not after they escorted him out the back door and made it clear that he was not welcome back in the establishment.

“Anyhow, it’s Sunday, Carter. The day of rest. Time to take it easy. Put your feet up. Enjoy the sunshine.”

She tilted her head at him. “You have something in mind?” Her tone was light and playful and Jack had to smile. He still worried about her from time to time. She’d confided early on that this was not how she pictured ending her career. It wasn’t how he’d imagined saying goodbye to the Air Force either, but he’d had a lot more years under his belt and a couple more steps up the ladder on her.

And she got bored here. Which led to the projects. The ones that Anka claimed were not the sort of work a woman Carter’s age should be doing. That Sam was not the definition of a ‘proper’ farm wife, complete with a gaggle of children trailing behind her and a root cellar undergoing constant restocking from her carefully managed garden bothered their landlady to no end.

Carter had no problem keeping herself busy, root cellar or not. She just got impatient with the pace of life sometimes. Getting a pound of nails, for instance, was a half day ordeal if you didn’t have the local equivalent of a horse to ride into town.

Jack poured a glass of water from the clay jug on the counter and took a deep swallow. He watched Sam move the pot from the stove and set it outside the kitchen door, giving it one more narrowed stare and muttering a curse at it under her breath. She was apparently done making glue for today.

He took another drink and set the glass down beside him so he could catch a wisp of her hair between his fingers when she leaned past him to grab the dishtowel off the counter. She paused as he tucked the strand behind her ear and slid his other hand around her waist.

“I might be able to think of something,” he said and she smiled and ducked her face, wiping her hands with the towel.

“It’s too hot for that today.”

Jack watched the freckles on her neck as she turned and he took the opening. He planted a string of kisses, working his way from behind her ear to her collarbone. Sam shivered and tried to twist away but he had a firm grip on the fabric of her skirts.

“We could go swimming afterwards,” he suggested as he pulled her close and leaned her back against the low plank table they used as a counter.

She half-heartedly pushed him back. “We could go swimming instead.” If she really wanted to put him in on his ass, she still could, and Jack was well aware of this.

“Afterwards?” He suggested again, taking the step back in their little dance. He held her hands loosely and arranged his face in one of his most pitiful lost-boy expressions he knew got to her every time.

She looked over his shoulder to the calendar and opened her mouth to argue, but he beat her to it.

“Instead,” he conceded, planting a kiss on her forehead for good measure. The one thing Carter had always been adamant about was that they needed to be able to pick up and run at a moment’s notice if they ever ran into any of their old enemies. They just couldn’t be flexible with a kid in tow. Jack sometimes wondered if maybe, deep down, Carter still believed it was possible to one day go back to their old lives. That she feared putting down roots and learning to call someplace other than Earth ‘home’.

“Thank you.” she tossed the towel at him with a smile. “You going to pack a lunch or should we eat here?”

Jack was about to tell her the he’d already picked up fresh bread when he’d gone into town that morning, but he heard their names being called from the yard.

He followed Sam outside to find one of Harlow’s older boys trotting into the yard. He envied the kid’s energy in the dry midday heat, but the boy was Rutan born and raised and probably thought nothing of it. It didn’t stop him from accepting the glass of water Jack offered, though. It was a long jog uphill from the main house.

“Father sent me to bring you word.” He handed the empty glass to Sam with a nod. “There’s a visitor from through the ring searching for you.”

Jack saw Sam stiffen, questions written clear on her face.

“Do you know who it was?” Jack asked.

The boy shook his head. “Only that it’s a man and he comes from through the ring. That’s all Father said.”

Jack scratched a hand through his hair. Not the best information. “Is he coming this way?”

The boy shrugged. Message delivered, he was eager to be on his way. Jack asked him to send thanks to his father for the message and sent him along.

Sam was already back inside digging through the wardrobe in their bedroom when he caught up with her. Their boots and a pair of zats were on the bed and most of the clothes that she'd spent yesterday washing and folding were now scattered across the floor.

Jack caught her by the arm as she turned to dump a pair of backpacks on the bed beside the pile of their remaining Earth possessions. When she turned, he saw the fear in her eyes.

“What's going on?” he asked casually. While he was alarmed by the news of someone asking specifically about them, he’d never seen this type of flight response in Sam before.

“We need to get a head start and hopefully get to the gate before reinforcements arrive,” she answered, opening the top of one of the packs.

Jack took it from her and set it on the bed. “We don't even know who's looking for us. Maybe we should go down and take a look first. Before we disappear.”

Sam shook her head and snatched up the other pack, her movements brisk and efficient. “I’m not getting captured again. That was the last time and it was way too close a call.” She still had the scar on her shoulder from the knife wound courtesy of an over-eager Jaffa. “I thought we’d buried our trail. They shouldn't have been able to trace us after that many hops in a row.”

“We don't know who's looking for us,” he repeated. Jack didn't want to bolt if they didn't have to. But Sam was right. If Anubis had finally tracked them down, they needed to make like the wind. “We need intel.”

Sam finally stopped packing. “You have a plan?”

*

It wasn't yet market day, but there was enough traffic between the permanent storefronts, the meal houses, and the brothels that they could blend in to the crowds around the main square. They'd borrowed a pair of Harlow's field horses with the promise that they'd be returned by nightfall. Not having to travel on foot cut the time in half and by late afternoon they were sitting at a table at a meal house bordering the main square, nursing tall glasses of now warm sweet tea.

Other than an old woman with a push cart peddling fowl, there wasn't much activity of interest. No Jaffa. No false gods wandering around and threatening people to find out their whereabouts. The town went about its business as usual.

Down here on the flats, the air seemed even hotter and the sweat running down her back made the zat stick to her skin where Sam had tucked it in the waistband of her skirt. She was just about to agree with Jack and call it a day when the owner of the meal house stopped at their table. They knew him as a friend of Harlow's who'd been by the farm house with his family on holidays.

He slid into the empty seat at their table, with a bar towel thrown over his shoulder and a smile for her.

“You sit out here with him all afternoon, and all that husband of yours buys you is a drink?” He teased.

Sam felt her cheeks warm and she ducked her head to hide it. What had started out as a convenient cover that afforded her a small measure of security on some of the rougher planets they'd visited, had now become a way of life. They'd never bothered to correct the assumption once they took up residence on Rutan. And it wasn't like they weren't shacking up. But after all the years of worrying about the integrity and appearance of SG-1, it still felt like an illicit charade.

“Oh, I'm sure he'll make it up to me later, Janen.” She sipped the last of her tea.

“He'd better, if he wants to keep a fine lady like you around,” Janen sent a knowing wink across the table to Jack, who, for his part, pretended not to notice. Sam was glad he had the sense not to encourage the man.

“Listen,” Janen continued. “That friend of yours? The one you came to meet? I sent him up to the farm when he came round asking about you.”

Sam choked on the mouthful of tea.

“You did what?” Jack pushed back from the table and gave her and firm smack between the shoulder blades. She waved him away and cleared her throat.

Janen looked confused. “Sent him up to the farm. He was asking for you both by name.”

Jack pulled a handful of coins from his pocket and tossed them to Janen. Sam thanked him and followed Jack around the corner to where they'd tethered the horses. Panic twisted her guts again.

“Think we can get ahead of him?” Jack asked as he checked the saddle on his mount.

“We'd better,” Sam pulled herself up and grabbed the reins. “If anything happens to Harlow or his family...”

Jack hoisted himself up, took the reins, and nudged the horse forward. “We'll catch him.”

*

They tried not to push the horses too hard. Neither of them were accomplished riders, and the horses themselves were bred to pull a plough, not bear a rider. Still, it was hard to ignore the sense of urgency as the horses patiently wound their way up the chalky road.

Jack had no idea what had been done to Sam when they’d been captured by Anubis. She never told him. He’d never pushed to find out.

They’d been separated almost immediately and subjected to the usual threats and oaths. Apparently these Jaffa had decided that even half of SG-1 might still be a force to be reckoned with, and Jack was led away in chains and leg irons. He didn’t see where they took Sam, but from the noise and commotion, he’d bet that her Jaffa had earned their day’s pay.

When she sprung him three days later, he was only a little worse for wear. His knee was still swollen, and between the split lip and the broken nose, he was sure he wouldn’t be winning beauty pageants any time soon.

Sam, on the other hand, looked like she’d fought her way out of her holding cell tooth and nail. It wasn’t so bad, if he ignored all the bruises, some of them already faded to yellow from the day of their capture. But the shreds of her jacket barely covered the blood on her shirt, and she cradled her right hand, tucking it out of sight when he looked too closely. When they’d finally found a doctor, she’d needed twelve stitches and a splint for her three broken fingers. Still, Sam was able to short out the lock on his cell door and they’d gotten off lucky.

They'd slept together that night for the first time, making love with a ferocity that had scared Jack, as if affirming their existence through touch and taste. Afterwards, lying tangled together under the worn sheets in a cheap rooming house, Sam had admitted that she'd been terrified of finding him dead and being left completely alone. It had been the first time ever that they'd known with absolute certainty that there would be no backup coming to pull their asses out of the fire. No Daniel or Teal'c with the last minute rescue. No SG-6 storming the halls with guns blazing. And if they'd been killed, nobody back home would have ever known. They might as well have been the last two humans from a dead civilization. That, above all else, had held them together and kept them alive since.

Now, as they approached the farmhouse, Jack watched Sam pull the zat out, check the power, and stow it within easy reach, all habits so ingrained that neither of them were even aware of the behavior. He’d thought of making a detour to the tool shed to pick up a little more firepower, but if Anka and the children were around, he didn’t want to risk a fatal stray shot. Rutan firearms were not renowned for their accuracy. Besides, if the visitor was armed with anything more powerful than a zat and a few hostages, it wasn’t going to be much of a fight.

Without a word, they tethered the horses to the scrub bushes just behind the barn. Using the out-buildings as cover, they crept towards the main house. Sam quietly cursed her long skirts; surveillance in town had demanded that she fit in, but it meant her mobility was also compromised.

The yard was quiet, which in itself confirmed that something was up. It was too early for the evening meal, but there were no children playing in the yard.

Flanking the door, weapons at the ready, he gave Sam a silent nod. There was no need to discuss the plan. Some things you didn’t forget.

Jack kicked the door and Sam rushed in, weapon aimed high.

The visitor froze with his back to them, then raised his empty hands.

“Turn around.” Sam shouted at him, eyes darting around the room, assessing the situation.

The visitor slowly turned and Jack had to blink. He wanted to believe it was a trick of the dim indoor light after being out in the sun, but he heard Sam gasp.

“Hey guys.” The visitor took a step forward into the light from the doorway. “Do you have any idea how hard you were to find?”

Sam lowered the zat. “Daniel,” she breathed as she rushed forward and wrapped him in a fierce hug.

*

Sam held on to him as tightly as she could. He felt so real and so solid and so very much alive. Maybe she should have been more skeptical. He’d been dead, after all. But she’d seen stranger things in the last three years since they’d left Earth. She’d learned how to live in the moment, and right now, here was Daniel, alive and well, looking a little dusty and travel worn. But alive. She didn’t want to let him go.

“Daniel?” Jack’s voice sounded a little rough to her ears. She heard the sound of his zat closing.

“Jack.”

“Daniel.”

Oh how she’d missed that. And then she was sandwiched between them as Jack pulled them both tight, thumping Daniel firmly on the shoulder. They weren’t alone any longer.

“You know, there was no need to break the door down,” Anka’s voice cut through the huddle. “Your friend was no threat.”

“I’m sorry if we frightened you,” Sam finally stepped back and was met by the curious stares of the two younger girls. “We didn’t know who was trying to find us. Nobody knows that we’re here.”

“Your Daniel Jackson apparently did.” Anka waved a hand. “No matter. No harm done.” The woman had five boys of various ages. A roughly opened door did not bother her. She shoved the two girls towards the open door. “Back outside, you both. I don’t need anyone under my feet while I’ve got a pot on the stove. I’m sure Daniel will come around again so you can bother him for another story.”

One of the girls, Sam could never remember which one was which, gave Daniel a shy wave and pushed her sister out the door.

“Now,” Anka held out a knife and a bowl of green vegetables to Sam. “You and your company are staying for evening meal?”

Sam opened her mouth, unsure of how to answer and not wanting to offend. She really was trying to get along with Anka, for Jack’s sake, if anything. But they had so much to catch up on with Daniel, and she didn’t want to have to speak in code in front of their hosts.

Fortunately, Jack stepped in. “Appreciate the offer, Ma’am, as always, but our friend here has come a long way to find us. We have a lot of catching up to do.” He shot her one of his more charming smiles he reserved for the elderly and the easily wooed merchant on market day. Sam bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. All he needed was the ten-gallon hat to tip in her direction. He might as well have lived here his whole life for how well he’d integrated himself into the culture.

Anka nodded and reached deep into a cupboard by the stove and produced a dusty bottle. She handed it to Sam with a smile. “I have a feeling that Daniel finding you is cause for celebration.” She nodded her head towards Jack. “Just don’t let him forget that Harlow expects him out in the north field at sun-up tomorrow.”

“He’ll be there.” Sam accepted the bottle with a smile and held it up to the light from the open door. “But if this is from that still I fixed for you, I won’t be able to vouch for his condition.”

Anka let out a knowing snort. “Either way…”

*

“So.” Jack opened once they’d settled the horses and started up the road on foot to their cottage. They hadn’t said much until they'd left the yard. Daniel had stood back and watched them go through the ritual of chores that had become part and parcel of their life here.

“So.” Daniel had his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn trousers. He’d been on the road a long time looking for them.

“Back from the dead, huh?” asked Jack.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Daniel replied. Better, now that he knew they were alive. He thought he’d lost their trail about six weeks ago when he’d been on one of those backwater trading planets they’d usually avoided on official missions. He’d come across a barkeep that remembered a man and a woman fitting Jack and Sam’s descriptions being hauled out of his establishment by a squad of Jaffa about half a cycle back. Jaffa coming to collect people seemed to be a common occurrence, but apparently they’d put up enough of a fight to leave an impression.

The Tok’ra hadn’t been able to give him any leads. If Anubis had them, they were stashed away somewhere the Tok’ra didn’t have a spy undercover. Of course Jacob had been livid at the lack of information and had been ready to grab the nearest cargo ship and go in guns blazing. Until Selmak had reminded him that they didn’t even have confirmation that Sam and Jack were still with Anubis, if they ever were. Daniel had promised that he would track them down, reasoning that by traveling solo, he would have a better chance of finding a trail, if there was one to find. He figured that Jacob still hadn’t forgiven the SGC for the betrayal of two of its finest, despite the risks Hammond had taken to protect them.

“How?” Sam finally asked the question that Daniel was still trying to answer himself. She was walking close beside him, occasionally bumping shoulders as they made their way up the rough path, looking for an excuse to confirm again that he wasn’t an illusion through those brief moments of contact.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember much before I woke up naked in a field.” He shrugged. There were still holes in his memory that he could not fill, no matter how hard he poked at them. He’d already regained most of what he’d deemed important, and he knew the rest would come with time. “One of the people who found me remembered seeing me with a Jaffa a few years ago. They contacted Chulak and sent word to Teal’c. He came and convinced me to go back with him.”

Jack turned to him. “Naked?”

“Don’t ask, Jack. I can’t answer the one.” Funny how easy it was to fall back into the same old patterns. Like slipping on a pair of well worn blue jeans. “So what have you two been up to?” he asked.

Daniel saw the glance that slid between the two of them. Sam hesitated, but Jack answered first.

“Little bit of this, little bit of that. Mostly farming lately.” Jack pushed open the door to the cottage. “Here we are. Home sweet home.” Daniel let the vagueness of the answer slide as they stepped into the coolness of the stone house.

*

They ate a cold supper on the patio in front of the cottage, overlooking the ocean. A breeze finally rippled the water, and though it was still a warm wind, the moving air cooled them nonetheless.

Sam was content to kick off her sandals and rest her feet on Jack’s knee, her legs bared where her skirts slid to the side. When she had work to do, she preferred the practicality of donning a pair of Jack’s trousers and stealing his old belt to hold them up. But she had to admit that the loose cotton skirts that were the fashion here were much more comfortable in the summer weather. Besides, Jack didn’t seem quite as inclined to rest his hand on her bare ankle, like he was doing right now, when she was wearing pants.

If Daniel was surprised, he was doing a good job of not showing it. Or maybe he didn’t care. She didn’t, not anymore. She had nothing to hide. There were no rules governing the need for human contact. Not here.

She’d felt on edge since they’d returned, but she couldn’t put her finger on the reason. Sure, she was beyond happy to see Daniel again. But all through supper there was the sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop as Daniel colorfully recounted his adventures since his return to the land of the living. After all this time, being reunited with a little piece of home was too good to be true.

“So,” Daniel leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands together like he was trying to broker a deal. “How soon can you leave?”

Sam felt Jack’s fingers tighten on her ankle. Thump went the other shoe.

“What are you talking about, Daniel?” asked Jack.

“Well, I just assumed that you’d want to come back with me and try to convince Hammond to let you come back to Earth.” Daniel blinked, surprised that they weren’t thrilled with the idea.

Jack took a sip from his cup and squinted out over the water. Anka’s moonshine went down smooth when it was mixed with water and the pink lemons from the orchard.

“I guess Teal’c didn’t fill you in on the part about us being exiled, did he?” Sam spoke up. She didn’t want to play referee between these two. That wasn’t her job anymore and as much as she loved Daniel, she didn't think she could be impartial.

“He did.” Daniel took a sip from his own glass. “I just thought that it’s been long enough. Administrations change.”

Jack set his drink on the arm of the chair and pushed to his feet. “Yeah. Well, some things stay the same.” He took a couple of steps over to the edge of the patio and stood with his back to them. Sam could see the tension in the bearing of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. She knew he was trying not to yell. Jack turned back to face them. “They brought us up on charges, Daniel. All of us. Even you.”

Daniel blinked. “It’s not like there hasn't been somebody trying to shut down the program before.” He stood and started to pace like he used to when he was formulating an argument to convince Jack why they absolutely had to stay just that little bit longer to check out those ruins. Sam didn't like the tension starting to build between the two men. “Anubis is gathering his forces to take out the System Lords one by one. Earth could be next. If we can prove that to Hammond, he'll have to let us come back.”

“Nobody's shut down the program. It's us they wanted rid of. SG-1.” Jack stalked back towards the cottage. “Let 'em defend the planet on their own,” he threw over his shoulder as he slammed the door behind him.

Daniel stared at the cottage door, his mouth an O of surprise. Sam took a deep swallow of her drink and wished, not for the first time, that they had a way to make ice cubes.

“General Hammond sold our houses,” Sam told him quietly.

“What?” Daniel turned back to her and sat down again.

“He took a big risk. He sold our houses. Put everything else in trust. He came through the gate in person and gave us the choice of prison or exile, but he knew we could never come back.”

“But there has to be a way.”

Sam sat up and shook her head. “There's a warrant for our arrest. The charges amount to treason against the government. It doesn't matter if they're trumped up or not, we'll still be arrested if we set foot on any US held soil. Including the Alpha site.”

Daniel took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Maybe Teal'c hadn't filled him in as completely as she'd thought. “There has to be a way to convince them. To fight the charges.”

“I'm sorry Daniel. You were dead. Teal'c chose to go back to Chulak. Jonas went home. He'd already been exiled once and figured he'd take his chances with his own government. Jack and I were honorably discharged.” Sam let out a small laugh and tucked a wayward strand of hair that had blown loose in the breeze back behind her ear. “On paper, at least.”

“So they finally won.” Daniel put his glasses back on and stood again, shoulders slumped. “They finally got us out of the way.”

Sam stood and gathered up the empty plates. “I'm afraid so.”

She squeezed his shoulder before turning and following Jack into the cottage.

*

Jack was folding the clothes by the light of the small oil lamp in their bedroom when Sam returned from getting Daniel settled in the main room for the night. Although they didn't have an extensive wardrobe between them, she'd managed to scatter nearly all their clothes in her earlier haste to pack and Jack was taking his time putting things to rights. He was avoiding Daniel and his arguments. He had no problem admitting it.

Rutan would never be home. Just as Edora would never have truly been home for him had Carter not found a way to bring him back. But he'd made the most of that situation at the time and accepted that he could live that life. It was the type of planet that, if he started to feel that old yearning for a cold beer and a big truck and the Simpsons on TV creeping back, he could find work to keep his hands busy and his mind from wandering until he was too tired to bother being homesick anymore. He'd always joked about retiring to his cabin, but this was the next best thing. He could just sit back and react here.

Jack heard her shut the door but he didn't turn around. He didn't want to get into an argument with her this evening either. He was surprised that she'd shut the door. Though the breeze was coming in through the open window, the air in the small bedroom was already sticky. Jack had taken his shirt off and tossed it in the corner with the rest of the clothes ready for washing, and was just putting the last pile of clean clothes back in the wardrobe when he felt her arms wrap around him from behind.

He's expected her to come in and make a case for returning to Earth with Daniel, not the feel of her lips on the back of his neck. Or her hands sliding up to his shoulders and finding the knots just between his shoulder blades. He leaned his head forwards and let her work the day's tension out of his taut muscles with her thumbs made strong from working the garden and helping in the barns.

After a few minutes where he thought his knees might give from the endorphins she'd managed to release along with the knots, he sat on the edge of the bed and she crawled up behind him. She worked her way up his neck and around to his jaw. He hadn't realized he'd been clenching his teeth. After all this time, she still noticed these things. She could still read his body language, just as he could read hers.

He reached a hand back and felt her bare calf, realizing that he hadn't heard her undress. He'd been too preoccupied with his imaginary counter-arguments for Daniel. Her sigh rustled the hair above his ear and the warmth of her body pressing into his back as she leaned forward to work over his biceps made the still air seem chilled.

He leaned his head back against her shoulder and felt a moan escape from deep in his throat. She shushed him quietly, her lips beside his ear, reminding him that, for the first time, they weren't alone out here on the far edge of the farm property.

Her mouth lingered beside his cheek, her moist breath stirring things deep in his gut as she rested her chin on his shoulder. Her hands slowed and settled on his chest, brushing his nipples with each stroke as she worked her way across his front and down his stomach. Her fingers continued to wander and knead and now her mouth joined them, tugging at his ear and tracing his hairline. She didn't seem surprised to find him already hard when her hands dipped between his thighs.

Jack turned his head to meet her mouth and caught her unbound hair in his fingers. “I thought this wasn't a good day for this,” he murmured into the soft spot behind her jaw. He felt her shiver as he tasted the salt on her skin left from the heat of the day.

“It's not,” she sighed as he turned towards her and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. “But don't worry about it.” She pushed him back down on the bed and straddled him, still kneading his muscles, though he doubted she'd find much tension left in him.

Sam reached over him to snuff the lamp on the bedside table and when she sat back again, his breath caught at the sight of her, naked in the pale moonlight, the scar on her shoulder serving only to accentuate the fragility of her collarbone. He reached up to run a finger along the length of the old wound and pulled her forward until she was leaning over him so his mouth could trace the same path. One hand in her hair, he pulled her mouth to his and felt her low sigh as his tongue found its way between her lips and his other hand the warmth between her legs.

She gasped and broke the kiss, resting her forehead on his shoulder while hands teased and coaxed her. She tried to distract him with her teeth on his neck, but he knew he could wait for her. He had maturity on his side and her breathing was already short.

But she surprised him by reaching down and sliding him inside her. Instinct took over and his hips rose to meet her. Once, twice, a third time before the rational part of his mind kicked back in. Jack stilled her with his hands on her hips and he felt her briefly fight him.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, startled. They'd been so careful for so long.

She furrowed her brow as if she didn't understand the question. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you're either trying to find an excuse to stay, or a reason to come back.”

She froze. He might as well have slapped her. She didn't say a word as she slipped off him and wrapped herself in the sheet. She shut the door behind her, leaving him cold and still hard in the dark.

*

Daniel had his notebook open and his pen to the paper, but words would not come tonight.

Intellectually, he knew it was possible that they'd be together. They had been for years, in a sense. The trust had been there from the beginning. That bond had deepened each time one of them put their life on the line for the other. It had for all of them over the years, but there had always been some small measure of friction between him and Jack that the absence of the chain of command had never seemed to lubricate. And while he and Sam had always been more than close enough for friends, he sometimes wondered if in another life, or another reality, there might have been the possibility of a 'them'.

But seeing Sam and Jack again, not in the heat of battle, or the intensity of the situation room, but as two people sitting together with feet propped up after a meal with an old friend, he knew without a doubt that they were together in ways that did not speak of an illusion for the sake of safety and convenience.

He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he felt just a little bit envious at the peace they'd found with each other.

And maybe he felt just a little bit left out, because this was the final confirmation that SG-1 was truly no more.

Daniel slid the pen back into the spine of the notebook and closed the cover. He took his glasses off and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on a stack of split wood. The breeze off the water had picked up and was rustling the trees, rendering the sound of the leaves indistinguishable from the surf breaking on the shore below. He was weary from traveling, but was in no way sleepy yet. The patio and the moonlight had been calling to him.

When he heard the door open behind him, he didn’t move. He recognized Sam’s lighter footsteps and mused that there were some things you just knew by heart. She shut the door softly behind her and when Daniel turned around to see if she was going to join him, she was leaning against it, her hand over her eyes as if trying to keep her face from crumbling. Her other hand clutched a sheet together at her chest and her bare shoulders seemed weighted with something other than the usual military bearing he used to find so comforting.

His first impulse was to go to her and ask her what had happened. He hadn’t heard them argue, but then, the door to their room had been closed when he’d slipped back outside. Daniel realized that she hadn’t noticed him and figured that ignorance was the best privacy he could give her right now. He quietly slid down in the chair, but his foot knocked one of the logs loose from the stack. He froze and hoped the wind had covered the noise. Apparently, though, her hearing was just as sharp as ever.

“Daniel?” she called softly.

“Um, yeah.” He pushed himself up and caught her wiping her eyes with the sheet. “Sorry to startle you.”

She wrapped the sheet tightly around herself and hesitated before pulling a second chair up next to him. “You didn’t. I thought you were asleep already, though.”

Daniel rested his head on the back of the chair and stared up at the unfamiliar stars. “It’s just after lunch on the last planet I’ve been calling home. I’m just a little out of sync. You remember how it used to be.”

“Universal coordinated time minus six here. Roughly.” Sam answered. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned her own head back. Daniel watched the breeze play with the loose strands of her hair. Some things about her, like the hair, were completely foreign to Daniel, but others, like her ready explanation for his jet-lag, were so familiar that it made him ache for all the time with her that he’d lost.

“You kept track?”

“I had to. That stuff,” she tapped a finger to her temple. “Is about the only thing from home I have left. And Jack.” Her voice broke. She shut her eyes tightly and covered them again. Daniel looked away, out over the water, and noticed that clouds were gathering. There was a distant flash of lightning but it was still too far to hear any thunder.

He heard her sniff and when she spoke again, her voice was still rough. “Sorry,” she apologized, wiping the heel of her hand across her cheeks. “I don’t know what that was about.”

“You don’t?” Daniel asked softly. He shouldn’t really be prying, but she was clearly upset. He wondered how long it had been since she’d had anyone to really talk to, aside from Jack. These two had never really talked, as far as he could remember. They’d always just danced around the issues. Miscommunication through body language.

“Might actually rain tonight.” Sam pointed at the lightning. With each flash, Daniel could see the leading edge of the clouds rolling closer. “We could sure use it,” she added.

“This is summer?” he asked. He knew she was stalling, but they'd get to the root of the issue sooner or later. Or maybe they wouldn't. It was just good to be able to sit beside her again and watch the stars.

Sam nodded. “Late summer. The equivalent of August back home. But it’s been a dry one and Harlow is worried about the crops.”

A particularly bright flash lit the sky. The thunder was still faint, but the storm was indeed getting closer. The wind lifted the edge of the sheet. Sam caught it and tucked it under her thigh.

“How long have you been here?” Daniel asked. He slipped his notebook under his arm to keep the pages from blowing.

She closed her eyes and appeared to be counting. “Almost ten months next week,” she finally answered. She shivered as the temperature started to drop.

“Why here?” He wanted to understand Jack's anger at the suggestion of leaving. What was the attachment to this particular planet?

Sam pulled the edge of the sheet over her shoulder to cover the goose bumps that had risen. “Why not here? It's quiet. Safe. Not on any Goa'uld radar just yet.”

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life here?” Daniel put his glasses back on. He didn’t want to lose track of them. There was no telling where he might find another pair. “They can't be much more advanced technologically than the pioneers who settled the Midwest at the turn of the century.”

“They're a little bit more advanced than that, Daniel. Not much, but they do trade with other planets.”

“Then I don't get it.” The wind dropped suddenly and Daniel could hear the noises from the nighttime insects still, as if the world was holding its breath for her answer.

Sam stood, pulling the sheet around her. “I'm just so tired of running.”

Then the rain fell.

*

The steady sound of water dripping off the eves woke Sam. The light filtering in through the shutters told her it was early, but Jack was already gone. She rubbed at her eyes and remembered that he had an early call with Harlow. She wondered if he’d remembered to take his long jacket.

He’d been asleep, or pretending to be, when she’d finally returned to bed after stowing chairs and shutting windows against the storm. She’d slid into bed quietly and lay watching the lightning until she’d fallen asleep.

Sam stretched and rolled out of bed. There was work to do today. She slipped on a pair of trousers that she’d cut off at the knees and a loose shirt, rolled up to the elbows. It wasn’t technically appropriate attire, but nobody local would be seeing her to comment on it.

She slipped past Daniel sleeping in the main room and grabbed a small satchel that she threw over her shoulder and snugged tight under her arm so it wouldn’t catch on anything. Closing the door quietly, she stood under the front over-hang for a moment, breathing in the clean earth smell of the damp air.

She started out with a slow pace. It'd been a couple of weeks since the last time she'd been for a run. It had been too hot, even in the early morning, and she wasn't comfortable jogging at night on her own. There were too many ways to twist an ankle or take a bad fall, and with no radios and little horse traffic this far out, it would be too easy to get herself killed for the sake of a little exercise.

Not that Sam was lacking in physical activity. But there was something pure and comforting about the rhythmic thud of her feet on the hard packed trail. She’d found jogging here was not automatic. The lack of paved roads and trail markers meant she couldn’t just blindly follow her feet and let her mind wander. There were animal burrows to avoid and jutting rocks just waiting to catch an ill-placed foot. Today she would have to keep an eye out for washouts from last night’s storm. It wasn’t all that different than sprinting through an alien forest with Jaffa hot on her heals. It took all of her focus and concentration.

Which was just fine with her. She didn’t want to spend too much time thinking today.

As she made her way north along the coast, the fine mist soaked into her clothes and ran down her neck, making her shirt stick between her shoulders and at the small of her back. The trail crumbled away under her right foot and she pushed off hard with her left, propelling herself over the gap with a quick extra step off a sharp boulder. She came down hard on her knee but got up again just as quickly and was off. She was pushing herself just a little bit harder this morning, to see if she still had it in her.

Another half-mile of dodging rocks and holes and the startled badger-creature that popped out of its den at the wrong moment, before she finally slowed to catch her breath. She stood with her hands on her knees while she sucked in the damp air and let the rain cool her. After using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the blood and grime from her skinned knee, she turned inland and headed towards the north field at a much more sedate trot.

Just like dodging Jaffa.

*

“Are you really that forgetful, Jack?” Harlow leaned over his shovel and adjusted his wide-brimmed hat. “Or do you just like an excuse for your wife to come see you work?”

Jack looked up from the pile of wooden posts he’d been unloading from the cart to see Sam picking her way across the field through the scrubby grass. It wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten to grab his lunch on his way out the door, but he honestly hadn’t expected her to come all this way to bring it to him this time. He’d been counting on her needing a while longer to cool off after last night.

After she’d left, he’d taken care of himself and then lay there, listening for the sound of her voice in the main room and wondering if she’d roused Daniel to find out more about the war with Anubis. He couldn’t hear them over the wind though, and when she finally returned to bed he’d pretended to be asleep. He still didn’t know what to think about her offer, if he could call it that.

“Your wheel will be ready this afternoon,” Sam told Harlow as she unslung the satchel from her shoulder. “I’ve got a spare pair of hands today.”

“I’d imagine.” Harlow tipped his hat in greeting. “I’m sorry I missed all the excitement yesterday. The girls were still on about your Doctor Jackson, even at bedtime. He made quite the impression.”

“He always does.” Sam smiled. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.” She handed the satchel to Jack with a nod and he noticed the color in her cheeks and that the hair that always seemed to slip loose from her ponytail was plastered to her neck. She’d been out running again.

Jack opened the bag and saw the lunch she’d packed for him last night while they were cleaning up from supper. “You didn’t need to come all the way to bring this,” he told her.

She shrugged, suddenly uncertain. “Didn’t want you to starve.” She seemed to have more to say but Harlow was asking her if they’d bring their visitor around for a drink one of these evenings so they could meet him good and proper. Jack wasn’t paying attention to her answer. He was trying to read her tells.

He realized that for the first time, he couldn’t. Had she really changed that much since they’d arrived here? Had he gotten so accustomed to life here that he’d failed to notice?

Sam was already bidding Harlow good day. She turned to Jack. “Will you be home for supper, or should I keep something waiting for you?” She didn’t meet his eyes while she waited for him to answer and he realized that she was playing her hand close to her chest. She wasn’t trying to be evasive, but she’d made her decision and she was trying not to influence his.

“Ground’s going to be too wet to do much more than sink these posts today,” Harlow answered for him. “I think I can send your man home in time for a hot supper tonight.” Harlow gave her a sly wink. “But you might want to keep something waiting for him, if you catch my meaning.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. She’d always gotten along well with the older man. “Your wife know you talk like that to the ladies?” she teased.

Harlow let out a loud laugh. “Why do you think I’ve got seven kids?”

Sam laughed and shook her head, waving to Harlow over her shoulder. She stopped before she reached the end of the wagon and took the three steps back to Jack. She put a hand on his shoulder and without hesitation, reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Then she turned and walked away, leaving Jack blinking after her with his lunch bag still in hand.

He watched her go, enjoying the sway of her hips as she stepped over rocks and picked her way between the scrub bushes like he sometimes did when she used to take point on missions. When she was out of earshot, Harlow nudged him in the ribs.

“I can see why you keep forgetting your lunch. You’ve got yourself quite the woman there.”

Without thinking, Jack answered, “And she’s not actually my wife.”

“Huh.” Harlow sank his shovel into the wet dirt. “Sure had me fooled.”

Realizing his faux-pas, Jack tried to cover it up. “Well, you know-”

“Doesn’t matter much to me what goes on under your roof, Jack.” Harlow stopped digging again. “But anyone around here can see that she’s truly yours. Don’t have to be a scholar to be able to tell that much.” He took his hat off and wiped the rain off the brim. He chuckled and put his hat back on. “You know, Anka used to find excuses to bring me lunch to the fields too.” He elbowed Jack again. “’Course, we were a lot younger then than you two are now. You’ve got some making up for lost time to do.”

Harlow took another stab at the ground and Jack went back to the cart to unload another post. Maybe her tells weren’t so hard to read after all.

*

By the time she got back to the cottage, Daniel was up and wandering around the kitchen. He startled at the sound of the door shutting.

“Uh, hi,” he said as he shut the pantry door behind him, looking embarrassed at being caught rifling through her cupboards uninvited.

“Looking for coffee?” Sam asked. She opened a cupboard, took out a jar, and handed it to him.

“You have coffee here?” he asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

She grabbed a kettle and filled it from the water bucket on the counter. “Something like it.” Sam tried to keep her hands from shaking as she lit the stove and put the water on to heat. She was chilled from the rain, but it was more than that. Since she’d left Jack and Harlow in the north field, her insides had been churning. She’d tried to jog on the way back home, but she kept losing focus and she’d had to slow her pace to keep from taking a bad step.

While the water was heating, Sam went to change out of her wet clothes and then hung them by the stove to dry. She made the bed. She tidied up the kitchen and emptied the pot from yesterday’s glue experiment. She straightened the rest of the small cottage. They’d been here long enough to set up house, but not long enough that there was enough of the usual clutter of their daily lives to fill up her time and let her burn off this nervous energy.

Daniel watched her from a chair at the kitchen table. He’d tried to give her a hand at first, offering to cook a proper breakfast, but when their uncoordinated dance around each other in the small kitchen threatened to end tragically with one of them toppling into the hot wood stove, he’d parked himself well out of her way. Sam had barely noticed his retreat.

“You know,” Daniel said around a mouthful of bread once they finally sat down to eat. “I used to have this fear that one day either you or Jack would slip.”

Sam looked up from her own plate. “What are you talking about?”

“I was afraid that if you slept together, it would change everything,” he went on as if she hadn't spoken. “I thought it would blow SG-1 apart. You know, the reason for all those regulations? I was afraid you guys would spontaneously combust.” He washed the bread down with a swig of his not-coffee. “And Teal'c and I would be left sorting through the ashes.”

“You never said anything.” Sam felt like the air had been squeezed out of her, leaving her gasping and trying to fill the void. She hadn't been particularly hungry before, but now breakfast was the furthest thing from her mind. She'd always thought she'd done a pretty good job at hiding her feelings for Jack before, given the risk of reassignment, but also the danger it would have placed not only them, but the rest of the team if they were captured and found out. It was the kind of leverage any inquisitor would have loved to have at his disposal.

Daniel looked at her squarely and she wished she were anywhere but here. She pushed back from the table and grabbed her plate and mug.

“I was always afraid that if I said anything, that would be the catalyst. That's all it would take to tip the balance and then we'd all fall apart.” Daniel stabbed at the sausage on his plate. “But you know what? I shouldn't have worried. You've been together how long now? A year and a half? Two, maybe?”

“Something like that.” Her voice felt small, like she was still a child, afraid of what might happen once her father got to the end of his lecture and doled out her punishment for breaking curfew.

He nodded, not distracted from his dissertation. “Nothing's changed. You two still dance around the issues. You still fall back into your old roles. Jack still gets mad and you still make excuses for him. But this time around, the only people who are going to get burned are yourselves.”

Sam opened her mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. She had nothing to counter with because Daniel was being typically Daniel and had cracked this thing between she and Jack apart. He'd exposed the heart of it and was holding it out for her to examine. Only she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to poke and prod at it because it’s always felt as unstable as nitroglycerin and she didn’t want it to blow up in her face.

Daniel gathered up his own plate and took it over the wash basin. On his way past her, he wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her into a rough hug. “You said you stayed here because you were tired of running, Sam.” He pressed his lips against her temple briefly, lessening the sting of his lecture. “I don't think you ever stopped.”

*

Harlow dropped Jack back at the cottage by late afternoon. The rain had picked up again along with the wind, making setting posts an exercise in futility as the runoff filled the holes as fast as they could be dug. It had been Harlow’s suggestion that they quit early and Jack had been secretly relieved. He’d felt twitchy since Sam had kissed him and left him wondering about her intentions to leave or to stay. The repetitive work of digging a hole, setting a post, then backfilling it hadn’t been enough to keep him from fidgeting and getting on Harlow’s nerves.

By the time Jack finished helping him load the newly repaired cart wheel that had been waiting for them outside the shed, they were both soaked to the skin.

“You know Jack,” Harlow said as he climbed into the wagon seat and grabbed the reins. “When we first met, I knew right away there was more to you than a man just looking for an honest day’s work. I knew you had brains in your head.”

Jack looked up at him and pulled his hat forward to keep the rain out of his eyes. “Well that’s mighty nice of you to say, Harlow.”

“What I’m getting at,” he leaned forward so he could be heard over the wind. “Is that I’ve known you two for a while now, and unless you hadn’t mentioned it today, I would’ve never known she wasn’t your wife. And I should know. I’ve been married a long time. A man can tell when his buddy’s heart belongs to someone.”

“And your point is?” Jack interrupted. If Harlow was going to get philosophical on him, he’d rather do it inside where it was warm and dry and there was a chance that he’d had a beer or two under his belt first.

“My point is you’ve been acting like a man whose mind has gone out walking without him since she came to see you, nay, since you showed up this morning. And I’m of the impression is has to do with this visitor of yours. So I’m wondering,” Harlow sat back. “For a man with the smarts you have, did you forget how to speak to her and ask her the right questions?” He flipped the reins and the horse had to strain to get the wagon moving through the mud. Jack was left standing outside the cottage with water dripping off his ears and no comeback in mind.

Harlow waved to him through the sheets of rain and nudged the horse and wagon towards home. The horse didn’t need to be told twice.

As much as it annoyed Jack that maybe Harlow had a point, he wasn’t going to stand out in the rain contemplating it. He needed to find Sam.

Daniel was sitting at the table with his notebook open in front of him when Jack came dripping through the door.

He finally looked up when Jack asked, “Carter here?”

“No.” Daniel looked around the small room as if she might have slipped past him while he was engrossed in his notes.

“Did she go out?”

“I guess. I don’t know.” Daniel was finally paying attention. “Jack, you’re soaked. What’s going on?”

Jack ignored him and checked the only other room in the cottage. Sam was definitely not in the bedroom. He traced his muddy steps back to the front door. “You didn’t see her leave?”

“I don’t know. She said she had work to do.”

That left one more place to check. Jack went back outside, calling her name in between bouts of thunder.

*

Sam thought she heard her name being called over the white noise of rain on the tin roof. She pushed the shed door open and nearly knocked Jack over.

“Jack? What are you doing back early?”

“Carter. You’re still here.”

“Yes,’ she said slowly, raising an eyebrow at him. Then she blinked. “You’re soaked.”

“It’s raining.”

“I can see that.” She grabbed his sleeve. “Come inside.”

He stood dripping while she pulled the door shut behind him. The shed was lit with several oil lamps hanging from nails that she’d driven into the bare wall studs. There were enough lit to push back the gloom of the afternoon, but they threw enough heat that she’d rolled up her sleeves and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt.

Jack stripped off his wet jacket and tossed his hat on her workbench. “You’ve been busy,” he noted, taking in her newly straightened workspace. She’d spent the afternoon sorting and hanging tools on hooks. The small odds and ends she’d organized into little jars and the larger bits and pieces were neatly stacked on the shelves he’d helped her put up when she’d first started picking up small repair projects. The floor had been swept clean. It was tidy for the first time in recent memory.

“You’re going with him, aren’t you,” he blurted.

Sam propped the broom she’d been holding against the wall. “What are you talking about? Going where?”

“This,” he waved his arm around the room, but he could have been including the whole planet. His voice was loud in the small space. He took a breath. “You hate it here,” he said, a bit of calm restored.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. She blew out a sigh. They’d been leading up to this since Daniel’s proposal. “I think…” She winced and looked away, scratching at the back of her neck as she tried out different false starts. “We need…I…” She’d started to pace. Finally turning back to him, she blurted. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“But you're going to if I won't come back with you.”

She turned to him, eyes wide. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Come on, Carter. This whole place looks like you’re closing up shop.” He waved his arms at her workbench again. “The cottage is clean. The kitchen is spotless. People don’t usually sanitize the place unless they’re planning on taking a trip.” His voice rose again and this time he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Sam found herself going on the defensive. “It’s been raining all day. The yard is like soup and I haven’t even looked at the garden. What else was I supposed to do? Pop in a DVD and make popcorn?” She turned away and stood with her hands on her hips. She hated that she’d been so quick tempered, but all day she’d felt like a tuned wire waiting for that final turn of the screw inviting her to snap.

“Oh,” came his quiet voice from behind her. She heard the thump of his head as he leaned back against the door. She didn’t trust herself to turn around yet, but at least they’d stopped yelling.

She dropped her hands from her hips and wrapped them around herself instead. It was warm enough in here that she’d been sweating while she cleaned, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do with her hands.

“I guess we need to sit down and figure this out,” he said.

She closed her eyes. “I think we do.”

They stood there listening to the rain and the wind and the thunder, each waiting for the other to make the first move. It had been so much easier with a chain of command. He asked, she answered. If he didn’t ask, he didn’t want to know. That’s how the rules worked.

This, here and now, this had a different set of rules. It was time they both learned them. Sam opened her eyes and turned around. “I don’t want to leave you,” she repeated because she still couldn’t find a better way to start. She held up her hand to forestall his arguments.

Jack nodded, so she continued. “I miss Earth. Every day. I miss how easy things were there. I miss my microwave oven. I miss my bike. But most of all, I miss the people.” Jack opened his mouth but she shook her head. She needed to lay this out for him properly.

“But if we went back, we’d be arrested and we’d be made to disappear. We’d never be allowed to see anyone we knew. We’re too much of a liability. And yes, I know that means they win, no matter how much Daniel thinks we might be able to change their minds. I don’t want to risk it.”

“So this is the next best thing.” His voice was full of acceptance. Suddenly, she understood.

“I never said that.” She took a step closer to him and tried to make him see. Had he always been this self-deprecating when it came to her? “Never once. If I’d wanted just survival, I’d have stayed with my dad and the Tok’ra. Not on this backwater planet with no electricity or running water. Not in a place where the most high-tech tool I have is this.” She grabbed the hand-crank drill off its hook and held it up. “Don’t you get it?” She tossed the drill onto the workbench where it skidded and fell to the floor. She ignored it.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and refused to look at her. “Spell it out for me, Carter. I’m not that bright.” His tone was even.

“Don’t give me that crap. There’s no one else here and I know you way better than that.” She thought he would yell back. Hoped that he would, if only so she’d get a reaction from him other than this defeatist act.

Instead, all she could hear was the rain.

Sam crouched down, picked up the drill, and grimaced at the bent bit. Jack took it from her. He pinched the drill bit and tried to lever it straight with his thumb against the edge of the workbench. “We can fix this,” he said.

She watched him work and waited.

His eyes were still on the tool in his hands. “This is what I’ve wanted for a very long time.”

“The cabin.” And all that it implied.

He nodded. “You. Me. Nothing complicated.” He leaned his weight against the drill and she watched the grooved metal bend back into shape. “Everything else is just details.”

Details. That was the problem. They’d never bothered to work them out.

Sam took the drill from his hands and set it aside. He finally met her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said firmly. “You. Me. The location is only part of the details.”

She slid her arms around him and he pulled her close. She ignored the water soaking her from his wet clothes. He buried his head in her neck. His breath tickled her ear as he spoke.

“We’ll work out the details.”

*

“So, three months?”

“Yes Daniel, three months. Harvest will be done by then, and the farm should be settled for winter.” Sam pulled back from the hug. “When you get back, we’ll decide if we’re going to stay here or not.” She handed him a folded piece of paper. “You’ll make sure my dad gets this?”

“You’re sure?” Daniel asked for at least the tenth time that morning. He carefully tucked the note into his pack. He was still surprised that after a week of discussions and planning, neither Jack nor Sam wanted to leave with him. He knew they could never completely walk away from the fight against the Goa’uld, especially since Anubis was now a threat. But standing in the small yard outside the cottage, saying their goodbyes, he understood it was a mutual decision.

“There’s no law saying you can’t visit sooner,” Jack added. “Just don’t bring company. We like the peace and quiet here.”

Daniel nodded and started towards the road. He turned back, lifted his hand to wave, and couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time they said good-bye.

Standing in the bright morning sunlight, Jack beside her with his arm around her shoulders, Sam lifted her own hand in kind.

“Take care of yourself Daniel,” she told him as his steps took him away from them again.

“Take care of each other,” he said softly, knowing that they always would.

.fin


End file.
